Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Mom and Dad’s anniversary party is on Sunday. I am so excited! It appears that my mother is still clueless as to the master plan. Why on earth would she even have an inkling? Their anniversary was back in January.

She is totally clueless.

I absolutely cannot wait to see the look on her face!

For the longest time, my dad was basically the figurehead behind this operation. He made the reservations at the country club and left the rest up to us. Guest list? I made it and emailed it to him. And then read it to him. And then pointed out the people who may or may not make the cut. And forced him to decide whether or not they were invited.

There’s six of us doing the bulk of the planning here and we have reached the point where nothing can be done without significant discussion among all of us.

A few weeks ago, my Aunt Annette suggested that we book the string quartet that played at Cousin Liz’s wedding.

She asked me what I thought.

I told her I’d get back to her.

Called Dad. He wasn’t sure. Called Meg. She didn’t have an answer. Mulled it over with Aunt Lynn. Discussed it with Grandma.

We didn’t make a decision.

On Mother’s Day, at my dad’s new country club (not where we’re holding the party), there was a saxophonist who played during dinner.

Grandma thought he would be fabulous.

She asked me what I thought.

I told her that I liked him.

Discussed it with Dad. Pointed him out to Meg. Brought it up to Aunt Lynn and Aunt Annette.

Dad called him, I know, but I don’t even know if he’s been booked. I’m not concerned. There are too many other things to worry about.

Like the hors d'oeuvres, which required approximately three hours of discussion before settling on two that “weren’t too trashy” (my concern), “people will actually eat” (Meg’s concern) and “were worth what your father is paying for them (Aunt Annette).

And the favors. Which we weren’t going to do. And then we were. And then we weren’t. And then, yes, we were. They would be cookies and Aunt Annette would order them and it would be great.

No! Wait! Grandma had other ideas. She would come over with some ideas right away.

...I think that she ran to the store after proclaiming that she had better, cuter, less expensive ideas and – oops! – couldn’t find anything that was less expensive, more adorable and less labor-intensive.

Never mind, Aunt Annette, cookies it is!

Cookies it is, indeed, but not from where we were originally ordering them from. Cousin Liz had cookies at her wedding shower in Ohio and they were far superior to the cookies she had at her personal shower here in Michigan (which is where we were to order them from).

Cousin Liz is now ordering the cookies.

Grandma ordered the cake that, like Mom and Dad’s wedding cake, she will decorate herself.

(Meg and I are helping.)

And everything was all settled and coming together nicely.

Until yesterday. When Dad has a brilliant idea. How about we invite everyone over to our house afterwards for a party?

There you go! A party after a party!

Otherwise known as an after party. For old people!

In his defense, I’m sure that they would all like to sit around a fire at the lake and drink and be all nostalgic. And it is predicted that this weekend’s weather will be phenomenal. So we’ll try to clean the house without obviously planning for something, Meg and Grandma will go to Costco and buy massive amounts of alcohol and hot dogs and snacks.

Aunt Lynn is buying the flowers for the centerpieces. Aunt Annette will help with the arrangements.

(Meg and I are helping her, too.)

And we’ll all just cross our fingers and hope that all goes as planned. No discussion necessary.

1 comments:

Hi. I'm A.

Born, raised, educated in the Midwest, I am such a Midwesterner. So Midwestern, if you will.

I am: a blogger of 8+ years, forever searching for my next athletic challenge, hopelessly overscheduled and always, always eating.

I started So Midwestern right after I graduated from college, hoping to chronicle my transition to adulthood. Graduate school, four half marathons, two new nephews, three apartments, a trip to Africa, a sprinkle of heartbreak, dozens of unfinished knitting projects, four turns as a bridesmaid, 8,913 job applications and two full-time positions later: I’m fairly convinced that the day when I feel like a legitimate, full-fledged grownup will never come. So I’ll just keep on blogging.

I write about a little bit of everything and a lot of nothing. Toss my ramblings with a few pictures, a touch of swearing and an endless appreciation for the beauty that is David Beckham and you have So Midwestern. Welcome.